


Badlands

by olympians



Series: Mafia!!! On Ice [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drugs, Knife Violence, M/M, Minor Body Horror, Violence, mafia! au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:37:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympians/pseuds/olympians
Summary: "Welcome back, Yu-- holy shit, is that blood?" Victor definitely didn't shriek, dropping his cell phone."Relax, darling, it's not mine," Yuuri said, waving a hand. "Some no-name punk thought he'd take a bite out of 'Victor Nikiforov's new plaything.' Didn't end up too great for him. Grab me a new shirt, would you?"or: yuuri the mob boss





	

**Author's Note:**

> and so the questionable shit that i definitely cant show my mom begins; sorry mom

❝i was always told that only

time would heal this pain❞

 

-

 

  
_**IF THERE WAS**_ one thing to be said for being rather plain and unassuming, it was that the powers of invisibility that came with it could be used for either good or evil. Yuuri knew this to be all too true.

 

     "Vitya," he called suddenly from where he was perched in his large, cushioned chair. The man appeared by his elbow in seconds, dropping to a knee and pressing a gentle kiss to his ring finger.

 

     "Yes? How may I be of service?" he asked, blue eyes trained on the ground. 

 

     "Vitya, look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you, love, would you?" Yuuri said, trailing a hand over Victor's silver strands and brushing away the locks that hung in front of one of his eyes. "I like it when people look me in the eyes. Window to the soul, and all that."

 

     "I'm sure Jefferson thought so too," Victor said but looked up anyways.

 

     "Who is Jefferson?" Yuuri asked as he got up out of the chair, rolling his shoulders back with a satisfying _crack-crack-crack_  of the bones.

 

     "The man you ripped the eyes out of when he looked you in the eye?" Victor said, getting up as well.

 

     "Oh _yeah_. Well, he was _disrespectful_ about it," Yuuri pouted. When he noticed Victor's eyes slowly dropping again he reached out and cupped the side of his face. "Darling, did I _scare_ you when I punished that nasty man?"

 

     Victor's eyes sharpened and Yuuri laughed.

 

     "Oh, of course not. After all, you've done much, much worse things to much, _much_ worse people, haven't you? Nothing can scare you now, can it, Vitya?" Yuuri patted his cheek fondly, rubbing a finger over those lips he loved so much. "Anyways, I called you because I think it's about time I go for a little walk, see how things are running, don't you think so too? Never good to get too out of touch with your business." 

 

     "Of course, I'll call the guards--"

 

     "No need, thanks. I'll go by myself."

 

     "By yourself? Sir, I must insist--"

 

     "Vitya," Yuuri said sharply. "I said I'm going by myself. Do you think I need a couple of huge, bumbling men to protect me?"

 

     "No, of course not, but sir, you really should have some form of protection."

 

     "I always have protection, Vitya, and you know that."

 

     "Are you referring to the twins? Because I'm sure they're excellent at their jobs, but what happens if you're kidnapped or attacked?"

 

     "Vitya, you've only been with me for a few months, so let me lay your fears to rest. People have attempted to kidnap me exactly one time in my life. There were..." Yuuri tapped his lip with a finger as he tried to remember, "... eight of them. The twins killed them all before they even touched me. Ill be going now." 

 

     And with that, Yuuri cheerfully walked out the door, closing it behind him with a crash. Victor just shook his head and blended back into the shadows.

 

     A minute later, a distressed man sprinted into the room, "Victor! Victor, are you in here?" He glanced around and shook his head dramatically. "Anya wouldn't do this to me," he mourned as he turned to run out again.

 

+++

 

     "Again, JJ?" Yuuri sighed as he entered the hospital wing. "What is this, the third time this month?"

 

     Seung-gil, the Family doctor, looked up from where he was patching up JJ's side, blood already seeping through white bandages. "Fourth."

 

     "It's nothing, Boss!" JJ said with a blazing smile and a thumbs up.

 

     "Really?" Seung-gil muttered, jabbing a finger into JJ's side. JJ gave a short shriek that he tried to cover up with a cough. 

 

     "Okay, it's a small something, but nothing I can't handle! It's a battle wound!"

 

     "And how did you get this 'battle wound,' then?" Yuuri asked, leaning against the door frame.

 

     "Some idiot three times his size smacked my ass," Seung-gil said, tightening the bandages, "and _this_  idiot decided to 'defend my honor,' or something."

 

     "Hey, he touched my property!" JJ said, throwing his hands up and wincing.

 

     "We're not dating, you moron," Seung-gil said calmly, tying the bandage off.

 

     "Yet," JJ added, winking at the unimpressed man.

 

     "Get out."

 

     "Okay."

 

     "Well, clearly you have everything under control," Yuuri snickered as the petite Korean tossed his third in command out and slammed the door.

 

     "Clearly," the man said, stripping his gloves off and dumping them in the trash.

 

     "Anything you need?"

 

     "More bandages. I'm blowing through my entire store thanks to that idiot," he said in a monotone.

 

     "If it were up to me, you'd be blowing something else!" JJ yelled through the closed door.

 

     "I'm letting you die next time," Seung-gil threatened. The door was closed so JJ couldn't see the cherry-red blush spreading across his face, but Yuuri was treated to a front row seat.

 

     "Good luck with that," Yuuri said, pressing a hand to his mouth to hide his smirk.

 

     Seung-gil dropped his head down on his desk.

 

+++

 

     Yuuri squinted his eyes as he weighed a solid block of cocaine in his palm, the drug wrapped in wax paper tied with string. They each weighed about a pound and there must have been over two hundred of them in just the crate Yuuri had cracked open. He leaned against the crate, half of his brain calculating how much money he was going to make selling this stuff to crack-heads and half wondering why the fuck it was so easy to just walk past the guards and open a crate full of hard drugs. He wasn't sure about the latter, but he knew someone was getting fired or thrown in a river.

 

     He tossed the block back in the crate and dusted his hands off. Out of the very corner of his eye, he saw the tiniest flicker of motion, impossible to detect with the untrained eye. He smiled.

 

     "Shouldn't you be at a higher elevation, Mickey?" he asked the open air.

 

     "Your warehouses don't have windows,  _capo,_ " a thickly accented voice said as a shadow peeled itself off of a crate and a tall young man in skin-tight black cloth materialized. He slung a sniper rifle over his shoulder and crossed his arms. "Can't shoot through five-inch thick concrete, eh?"

 

     "And yet Sara is still outside, no?" Yuuri asked as he reached up to close the crate. It slammed shut with a bang and Michele flinched violently, hand flying to the silver knife strapped to his belt.

 

     "Still just as jumpy as ever, I see."

 

     "It keeps me alive," Michele said and slid back into the shadows. 

 

     Yuuri went to go have a "talk" with the head of security.

 

+++

 

     Yuuri dropped by the rest of the warehouses, casually taking inventory of the stacks of automatic rifles, drugs, and other extremely illegal paraphernalia that six years ago would have made him violently ill to even think about touching.

 

     Only on his way back did anything interesting happen. He had left the shipyard where the warehouses were and was walking down the street deciding whether or not to take a cab to placate Victor who would surely be upset he was walking down an empty street alone when a chill shot down his spine. He started turning, getting half around before someone grabbed his arm and dragged him violently into an alleyway. A heavy weight settled across his throat, pinning him to the dirty brick wall.

 

     "Well, looky here, boys. If it isn't Victor Nikiforov's new plaything walking around my streets. Why's a pretty thing like you all alone?" the large man asked. He might have been handsome if Yuuri wasn't so _utterly_ unimpressed with the shitty line that just came out of his mouth.

 

     "Please do me a favor and break my neck now if you're going to say any more dumb shit like that," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Or, you could, you know, not."

 

     (There are a couple things to remember when attempting to kidnap/kill someone walking alone. A: make sure they don't have a weapon, and B: make sure they're actually _alone_.)

 

     The man's eyes widened as Yuuri sank the blade of the knife he carried in his belt into his soft stomach and ripped upwards, cutting through muscle and sinew before lodging firmly in his ribcage. He slowly collapsed, dead before he hit the ground as two bullets embedded themselves in the foreheads of his two idiot companions. They crumpled, matching looks of surprise burned onto their faces forever. 

 

     "Unfortunate," Yuuri muttered as he squatted down and wiped the blade of the knife on the disemboweled man's shirt. "This was a new shirt, too," he complained as he looked down on his blood-soaked shirt and pants. He wiped a fleck of blood out of his eye and shrugged.

 

     "You two sure took your time," he said without turning around. "Shouldn't you have seen these idiots from a mile away?"

 

     "Aw, don't be like that Yuuri. We just saved your life, after all," a girl in black cloth and a dark grey vest chirped, propping her semi-auto across her shoulders. "Some thanks would be nice."

 

     "You act like you did this out of the goodness of your hearts and _not_  like I pay unholy amounts of money to have two assassins trailing me at all times," Yuuri said, rolling his eyes.

 

     "I don't think I have a heart anymore," Michele said casually, standing protectively behind his younger twin.

 

     "Right, I'm sure-- mph!" Michele slapped a hand over his sister's mouth and dragged her away, once again doing his creeping blending-into-the-shadows trick that always managed to creep Yuuri out.

 

     Yuuri fished his phone out of his pocket. "Hey, yeah it's me. I need a cleanup. No, I didn't start it, listen, Yuri, I didn't ask for your _sass_ \--"

 

+++

 

     "I'm back," Yuuri called as he closed the door and collapsed into his chair. "Vitya?"

 

     "Welcome back, Yu-- holy _shit,_ is that blood?" Victor definitely  _didn't_  shriek, dropping his cell phone.

 

     "Relax, darling, it's not mine," Yuuri said, waving a hand. "Some no-name punk thought he'd take a bite out of 'Victor Nikiforov's new plaything.' Didn't end up too great for him. Grab me a new shirt, would you?"

 

     "Of course, sir," Victor said, bowing. He started to turn but stopped halfway. "Did you have a good time?"

 

     "Yeah. I did." 

**Author's Note:**

> hey do u like sports anime? do u like my writing? do u maybe even want me to write something F O R u?? hmu at my tumblr here !!!!!


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